


What's Your Escape

by gotnofucks



Category: Enola Holmes (2020)
Genre: F/M, Jealousy, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Harassment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:39:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28705299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotnofucks/pseuds/gotnofucks
Summary: Sherlock could never resist a mystery, especially not one as deliciously wrapped as you
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & Reader, Sherlock Holmes/Reader, Sherlock Holmes/You
Comments: 9
Kudos: 122





	What's Your Escape

It was your duty to make sure that the young miss could escape quietly. You put extra padding on her shoes and made sure the mud outside the window was spongy. She would need something strong and long to climb down from here, so you sew together a few old curtains to make a rope and put them in the chest in her room. If she follows the plan, she will leave, and none will be the wiser. You hoped she would make it back before noon, or you’d have to answer the masters of the house why their sister was missing.

You liked living here before the brothers returned. Things used to be fun at the Holmes ancestral manor before Mycroft and Sherlock returned after their mother’s disappearance. You would have thought they will leave after bringing back Enola under their roof, but they seemed to have reconnected with their roots and to your displeasure stayed.

Eudoria Holmes had hired you as a second housekeeper after Mrs. Lane started getting up in the years. Or well, that’s the story she told everyone else. Eudoria had rescued you from a life of abject poverty, brought you to her estate and given you a roof and work. She saw in you a fire that she claimed would light the way for many women to come. You had trained with Enola since childhood under her mother’s direction, but you were more mentally skilled. While Enola could jujitsu her way out of a situation, you could read a person, manipulate them into letting you go. Together, you both made the best team.

Everything changed when Eudoria disappeared. You knew one of you had to stay here to keep an eye on the Holmes brothers, so you helped Enola escape while you stayed. You didn’t think anyone would suspect you had a hand in her daring getaway, but then you hadn’t met Sherlock Holmes before. Since the morning Enola was missing, his eyes followed you like a bloodhound’s to meat. You could feel them, the weight of his gaze heavy on you. If you would look up and catch him, he would get an irritable look on his face, like he’s stuck trying to undo a knot for a while.

You were glad when he left the Holmes Manor for London to search for his sister soon enough. His looks made you antsy and you had to bite your tongue on various occasions to set him straight. For years you had lived unrestrained with Eudoria, and suddenly being thrust back into your duties as a housekeeper proved to be more difficult than ever. More so now that Enola was back as Sherlock’s ward.

Things could have gone back to normal for it seemed Sherlock was more liberal than Mycroft when it came to their sister. Yet, he was a man of society. Intelligent as he may think her to be, he was still of the mind that she must marry a suitable gentleman, after which she could frolic wherever she wished. It fell on you to help Enola escape the Manor, to go away for a few precious hours at night to spread her wings and breath freely. You’d been doing so for nearly a month and every night your exploits had gone without a hitch.

You’d just seen her down the curtain rope, waving to her from the window as she climbed atop her bicycle and rode away into the dark. You sighed, wishing you could perhaps go too. But you owed a great debt to both the Holmes woman, and you would continue to serve them as long as they would desire.

“Would you like me to help you climb down?” Said a voice behind you and you turned suddenly, clutching the windowsill to support yourself. Sherlock leaned against the doorframe, his curls slightly mussed.

“Mr. Holmes” You breathed, heart hammering unevenly in your chest. Your first thought was that your secret was out, and Enola would be made to marry a stupid man while you’ll be thrown on the streets. He walked languidly towards you, wearing a robe that stretched over his bulky frame. For a man so huge, he carried himself with a lot of grace. Stopping a few feet from you, his eyes followed the rope that dangled out the window and a smile tugged at his lips.

“I’d wondered why she looked so tired every day, and why you spent so much time doing her laundry. The mud must be difficult to get off, hmm?” He asked, his hand pulling out his pipe from his pocket that he deftly lit and popped in his mouth.

You didn’t answer him, watching him, deciphering him. He was a mystery to you because he was so open. Unlike others he didn’t wear a mask of polite diplomacy, his disdain for things was expressed in no uncertain terms and he rarely bothered hiding his true thoughts. While you could outsmart a liar, talk a stupid person into doing what you want without them realizing, you had a hard time reading Sherlock Holmes. He had little need to lie unless it was for a case and he was certainly not stupid.

He stared at you for a long time, smoke drifting from his pipe while you refused to cower under his gaze. His lips twitched in amusement, eyes raking over your form before finding yours and he took a step forward.

“You are good at hiding I must say. Almost perfect in fact, but these eyes, they give you away. Your tongue drips with honey while your eyes burn with fire and ice. If someone knows where to look, your game will be over before it begins.”

“And what are you looking for Mr. Holmes?” You asked.

He set his pipe down before coming close enough to brush his front against yours. You stiffened slightly, feeling his hand going around your waist.

“I’m looking for a _reason_.” He whispered, his hand catching hold of the rope behind you as he started pulling. You stayed between him and the window ledge, staring into his eyes, his knuckles grazing your back occasionally until he pulled in the entire rope. Letting it fall on the ground, he almost bumped into you when he leaned forward to shut the windowpanes behind you. His breath was on your face and you resisted the urge to dash away from him.

“You need to leave” You said at last. Sherlock shook his head, arms resting on either side of you now. He breathed deeply, taking you in. His blue eyes, one with the slightest tinge of brown gleamed at you. Only a faint light came from the candlestand in the corner now that the windows were closed, and you saw reflected in his eyes an emotion you were entirely unfamiliar with. Desire.

He leaned forward, his one errant curl tickling your forehead and you felt his breath on your mouth. Your hands shot out, pushing against his chest.

“Leave, now.” You said, sharp and commanding.

“ _Make me_ ”

You gulped, the intimacy of a man not something you were used to. He was too large to even think of physically getting away. You must, like he said, _make him_ go away.

“I can’t get you to leave, but if you stand at the end of the hall, I can convince you to come to me.”

His eyes lit with intrigue, a most sensual smile tugging at his lips. You were doing what he loved the most. Playing a game.

“And what if you cannot?” He asked. You met his eyes head on, not an ounce of fear in yours.

“Then you can have what you so clearly want.”

You could almost call his grin boyish, an excitement taking over his features as he finally pushed away from you. He cocked his head at you, appraising you as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. He nodded, turned around and walked out of the door and stood at the end of the hall. He spread his arms as if to say, _your move_.

Your feet carried you across the room, measured stride that gave away nothing.

“I think the deal was for you to make me come to you.” Sherlock remarked as he saw you walking forward.

“It is” You stated before quickly taking hold of the door and pulling it shut. You had a brief glimpse of the shock on his face, then heard his feet thundering as he ran towards you but by then you had locked the door and rested against it.

His fists hit the wood and for a moment you were convinced he would break it down. But then you heard his chuckle, like he was proud to have been played as such.

“I’ll come back for you” He said aloud, and his feet retreated while you sank down on the floor. Your heart was loud in your ears and hands slightly trembling. Maybe its time you brushed up on your jujitsu.

**+++++**

Sherlock let Enola leave every night, giving no impression he knew what she was up to during the day. She was far too happy (and sleepy) to give it much thought and the days went by as normal. Or well, maybe not for you.

If you thought he was looking at you before, it was nothing as compared to now. He was everywhere, watching you from the corners when you cooked and cleaned. You were glad for other people’s presence in the Manor, for you feared being alone with him. Each night, the moment Enola climbed down you would shut the door to her room, sleeping there. You couldn’t risk making the journey across to your own chambers. That was a risk you weren’t willing to take.

“Mr. Kennedy would be over for dinner tonight. Make the necessary arrangements” Mycroft told you at breakfast. You nodded, dreading the extra hours of cooking you’ll have to do. Thank god Mrs. Lane was still well enough to bear most of the burden. Sherlock’s eyes as usual were on you and you wondered how no one noticed.

“Do you still have mother’s favorite infusion?” He asked you and you nodded. Eudoria will not be happy with them taking liberties with her stuff, but you weren’t about to argue. “Get me some, please.”

“Of course, Mr. Holmes” You sped away, grateful to be away from his company. You always loved the storeroom where Eudoria kept her infusions. A sweet smell of herbs along with polish permeated the air and it warmed you from within. You tinkered with the numerous jars that littered the shelves, dust coating them for they haven’t been touched in months. You were rummaging in one of the upper shelves when you heard the door behind you shut and you turned to see Sherlock turning the key to lock it.

“Are you done running away from me?” He asked, putting the key in his jacket. The room was just a small storeroom, crammed with different knickknacks everywhere. Sherlock’s body seemed to take all the space in the room, and you felt claustrophobic. He only needed to take another step to close the distance between you and you stumbled into the shelf behind you, jars clinking against each other.

“What do you want?” You asked, feeling both irritated and anxious.

“You’re smart enough to figure that out by now.” He said and took that step forward, bringing you chest to chest. You wished you’d worn a corset which would have provided an extra layer of protection. All your training with Eudoria had not prepared you for her son. He smelled like the pipe he smoked and the rich musk of ink and parchment. You tried not to breath too deeply.

“Mr. Holmes, this is most inappropriate.” You chided and he breathed out a laugh. His face neared yours and his eyes held yours in a way that you couldn’t look away if you wanted to.

“You intrigue me like no other. The restraint you have…You’re a burning match and I keep creeping closer and though you threaten to burn me you’d much rather smother your flame. _Why_?”

His words heated you, a tingling starting in your belly as you shook from the force of him. His finger raised slowly, very slowly to your cheek and you turned your face right before he could touch.

“How will you get out this time? What’s your escape?”

He was so smug and amused you very nearly growled at him. Your eyes took in the room, trying to see how you can get out of here. He was blocking the only exit with the key in his jacket. As established previously, physically fighting him was not an option. You thought about it and finally turned to look at him.

“I propose a challenge” You said, and he grinned like it was just what he was waiting for. “You hide that key anywhere in this room while I shut my eyes. If I find it, you let me leave.”

He leaned even closer, close enough for his nose to graze your head.

“And what if you don’t?”

“Then you can have what you so clearly want.”

He pulled back and produced a handkerchief from his pocket that he offered to tie on your eyes. You took it and did it yourself. You’d rather he not touch you at all. You could hear the shuffling of his feat, slight movements to your left and then the clinking sound of metal hitting an object. He gave you the go ahead and you took off the blindfold.

You looked around carefully, examining every surface and box and jar. Your keen eyes judging what was moved from its position. One glass jar to the far right caught your eye and you almost went to pick it up before you stopped. You titled your head, looking at Sherlock who seemed to be observing you most intently. To his surprise, you stepped towards him and placed a hand on his chest, moving it until you reached the pocket in the inner lining of his jacket and found the key.

His eyes were wide, both aroused and impressed.

“How?” He asked and you smiled a little at his fascination.

“I almost went for the jar, that was the only one with fingerprints marking the dust layer. But then I noticed your jacket which had dust stain too. You dropped the key in there but put it back in your pocket, not wiping your dusty hands.” You explained.

His arms caged you before you could blink, holding your body to his and mouth at your ear.

“No, you said you’d let me leave!” You protested. His warmth was seeping inside you, smell overpowering your nostrils and you pushed.

“I have never wanted a woman more in my life. I’ll let you leave, but only because I know I will have you. Go now before I am tempted more than ever.” He released you and you unlocked the door, stumbling outside and running away without looking back.

**+++++**

Two months, that’s how long you held him off with the power of your brain alone. He would corner you and you would play a game of wits. Every time you had escaped, sometimes narrowly, but it all changed this night.

You didn’t know what was happening until Sherlock almost drove his fork into the tabletop. He was positively seething, eyes glaring at Mycroft’s colleague who was over for dinner. It was not until he turned those eyes on you did you understand what had him on edge. Mr. Shephardson had referred to you as ‘my dear’ and ‘sweet girl’ multiple times now, and with each new endearment Sherlock’s fist clenched harder until you worried he’ll dig his fingers in his own palm.

You shrugged away his glare and continued serving, smiling at the man old enough to be your father. It was not like you cloud go, just turn away and leave, it was your job to be kind and serve the guests. It was one of the longest dinners of your life, one that left you utterly uncomfortable and confused. The guests departed and you were left alone to clean the table. You had just started stacking the plates together when Sherlock marched towards you, a frown marring his handsome face.

“Ten minutes, my room. Don’t make me drag you” He warned and went away as quickly as he had come. You shivered slightly and moved your hands faster, collecting the dishes, and putting them in the kitchen for a wash. You had no idea what he wanted, but he was angry enough that you wouldn’t push his boundaries. You wiped the table next, legs jittery as you knew time was running out. Finally, you rearranged the chairs and put away your apron before climbing the stairs to make you way towards Sherlock’s room. You were halfway up when he came thundering down himself, almost colliding with you.

“I was just –” You started speaking but he cut you off by lifting you in his arms and making his way up. You bounced in his arms as he climbed the steps, his jaw clenched in anger.

“I told you I’ll drag you myself if you don’t make it on time.” He snarled and you were too shocked to make a noise until you were in his rooms and the door was shut and locked behind you. You had to admit you were afraid of him then, his chest heaving in anger as a vein pulsed in his temple. He stalked towards you, removing his jacket as he came and you nervously moved back.

“Mr. Holmes please –”

He cut you off again, voice sharp and so commanding your knees knocked together.

“Say my name. Now”

You gaped at him, unsure what was happening. Here you thought it would be another tedious game between you two, but the mischievous glint had disappeared from his eyes. They were dark like a thundering sky, boiling over with rolling clouds.

“Say my fucking name now!”

“Sherlock!” You yelped, your eyes wildly looking for a way out. He was not himself. This is not the man you wanted to be left alone with for even a minute. But he had different ideas and he crowded you against the wall, assuming his favorite position in front of you with his arms acting as a cage.

“Say it again.” He ordered right in your face, voice dark and slow.

“Sherlock” You whispered and saw some of his anger leave him. One of his hands reach out to tangle in your hair and pulled you forward, your lips a hairsbreadth away from his when you started struggling. “No, no Sherlock. Please don’t” you pleaded.

He was so close you could make out every detail of his face, you could taste his breath on your tongue.

“You had a jolly time smiling at that man tonight, yes?” He seethed and you shook your head. You didn’t know he’d get so angry and jealous.

“It is my job” You argued and his arm tightened around you, squeezing until you were sure you’d be bruised tomorrow.

“I am your job!” He said and pushed away from you. “Name your challenge. Tell me how you’ll escape from me today.”

From the look on his face, you didn’t think he’d let you leave anywhere. Your eyes shifted from one place to another, wondering what you could do to get away from here. Fear permeated the air, making you lightheaded. You finally spotted his small safe hidden in the corner of the room.

“If I can open that safe you let me leave.”

“And if you don’t?”

You gulped audibly before answering. It was a question frequently asked and just as frequently answered.

“Then you can have what you so clearly want”

He smiled a satisfactory smile, moving away to sit on his bed. You forced your legs to move, inspecting every inch of the safe. It was small in size, golden in colour and had a very distinctive keyhole. You surmised that the key must also be golden, small going by the size of the safe and if you looked at the keyhole carefully, it must be sleek too to fit inside.

You made a mental tally of where he could keep the key in the room. But before that, you thought about what Sherlock Holmes would keep in a safe. It must be very valuable going by how expensive the safe itself looked, and if it were valuable then he would not just leave the key laying around in his room. He had only just returned to the manor after a long absence, things had changed behind him. He was once again living with his brother who he hardly trusted. There was only one logical place he would keep the key then.

“Please stand up” You said to him and he did, coming to stand before you. You tried not to look in his eyes as you scanned his body, thinking where he might have put the key because you were sure it was on his person. He had removed his jacket, leaving him in his shirt and pants. You took in every part of him and finally plucked the pen from his pocket. On its cap was a golden clip that you broke away and took with triumph towards the safe.

You inserted the clip into the keyhole, and it entered smoothly and your grin widened. You threw a smug look at Sherlock over your shoulder and turned it, but it didn’t move. Frowning, you put more force into it and tried to turn it. It stayed stuck.

His laughter made you freeze, and you let the clip fall from your hands. You faced him ashen faced, eyes wide and fearful. He took his time coming to you, victory sparking in his eyes. You corrected your posture, hoping you have wiped away every ounce of fear from your face. You weren’t about to let him gloat over you.

“I’ve told you before, you can hide very well but your eyes are your undoing. You can’t hide your heart from me when it shines so bright from behind your eyes.”

His hand took yours and slowly slid it down his chest until it rested on his buckle.

“Right before your eyes, had you been daring enough to see.” He said and you saw on his belt buckle a golden key. You looked at him and saw heat in his eyes, heat and desire that scared you more than anything. You left behind your rational thinking and made a run for it, rattling his door before he came behind you and hauled you up by your waist, throwing your body on his bed.

“You can’t break the rules of the game. When you won, I let you leave, now that I won, I’ll take what I want.”

He climbed over you, straddling your lower half as his hands sank in your hair and finally pulled you into a kiss. His lips folded over yours, kneading yours gently before his tongue probed inside to taste you. You wiggled in his hold, his passion burning you as you tried to come to terms with the situation. He was not brutal in his ministrations and coaxed a response from you, your lips moving against his on their own. You let out a soft moan, which made him sag against you.

“I’ve waited so long to have you, to have you burn me in your fire. Tell me why, for I can’t figure it out. Tell me why you suppress the storm that I know howls inside you.”

His eyes were open, urging you to talk about a part of you that you buried under layers. His let his fingers massage your head, and you sobbed. Even pinned under him, held down with his weight, his words were heavier to bear. He wanted a reason. _Your reason_. Right now, in the position you were in, with your heart thumping away in your chest, you couldn’t keep it in.

“If I go out to live my life, your sister can’t live hers. I owe everything to her and Eudoria, and if I have to sacrifice all my dreams to make hers come true, I’ll do it over and over again.”

His lips were on yours before you were even done, hands working to rid you of your dress. You resisted, a protest on your tongue.

“Please, don’t. I can’t, not this way.” You beg and he pulls away but only to discard his own shirt.

“I will not wait any longer. I will make you mine, I’ll have you tonight. No questions asked.”

How he managed to remove the dress from your squirming body you didn’t know but you lay before him more exposed than any man or even woman had ever seen you. Parts of you hidden under layers of cloth for years had become bare before his gaze and he revered them with his hands and mouth. Your back arched once his mouth sucked on your nipple, causing a deep heat to pool between your thighs. You squeezed your legs closed but he pried them apart, his already huge body looking ginormous as he nestled between them.

“I am going to taste you and I will claim you. It will happen, no matter what.”

He made good on his promise, bringing you incomprehensible pleasure with his tongue on your most sensitive region, making slurping noises that could make a street woman blush. You don’t remember when you ceased struggling, when your hands pulled instead of pushed. You panted for him, ached for him.

When he entered you, it was a pain the likes of which you had never experienced before. The stretch was uncomfortable, your legs trembling as you cried. Sherlock shushed you, promising it will be better soon. With every thrust the pain lessened and when he started teasing the nub between your legs you finally moved past the pain to focus on the pleasure. You were sobbing in need, begging him for something you didn’t even know what. He knew. He saw in your eyes what your mouth couldn’t say and gave you what your body desired.

You shattered below him, falling apart in a million pieces and he gathered you back into his arms, putting you together one kiss at a time. He was nearing his limit, hips pumping into you and your eyes rolled.

“After tonight, no more escaping. You’ll be mine, completely.” He vowed and you felt the warmth of his seed fill you. You lay beneath him, sweaty and battered, tear stained face anguished at what just happened.

Sherlock pressed kisses along your throat and chest, marking you.

“You never have to smother your flames from now one. You can burn as bright as you want, you can soar as high as you want. I will make all your dreams come true. You won’t just be a housekeeper. You’ll be the mistress of this Manor. I’m going to keep you, forever.”


End file.
